


The Novice

by greenwillow



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Magic, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenwillow/pseuds/greenwillow
Summary: Osferth has been hiding his magical abilities for years, but when the monks discover his secret he has no choice but to run. Alone in a forest he encounters a mysterious woman with whom he has more in common than he expects.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Novice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tsukkinami's TLK monthly challenge on tumblr: I rolled Osferth + canon divergent + magic + hostile.

Osferth was the bastard son of the King. That should have been a great enough secret to keep for his lifetime. But the boy had another secret, one that he himself did not discover until the age of ten.

He had magic. Or, rather, he could use magic.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, nor did he trust any of the monks enough to ask. The spells, if that’s what they were, had started small enough. He discovered that he was able to keep a bowl of stew warm by wrapping his hands around it and concentrating. He could sense the emotions of the animals at the monastery and calm them with a touch. The crops he planted and cared for seemed to grow faster and taste sweeter.

The monks soon realized Osferth had a knack for farming, but he was careful not to reveal anything that might have brought unwelcome spiritual attention. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was, just that he was different from the other novices. He also knew there wasn’t an innocent explanation for that type of ability in the holy books. If the monks found out what he was hiding, Osferth was sure he would be cast out. So for the next several years he kept his head down, doing his best not to use his skills in a way that would draw attention to himself. 

One day another novice injured his hand with a kitchen knife and Osferth was there to bandage it. He couldn’t help himself, one moment he was washing the wound and the next he was curing it. He watched half in fascination and half in horror as the wound began to heal over before his eyes. When he realized what was happening, the other boy thrust Osferth away from him and began screaming for help.

Osferth ran. Out of the kitchens, across the courtyard, the the gates of the monastery, and away. He wandered for the rest of the day, finally finding himself in a dense forest where he felt he would be safe enough to rest.

He had nothing with him but the clothes on his back, yet he knew he could never go back. He found some mushrooms to eat, drank water from a stream, and collapsed into a fitful sleep on a bed of moss beneath a tree.

That night Osferth dreamed of his father. When he woke he knew what he had to do. He would make his way to Winchester, to his uncle, though he did not know what he would find when he arrived. At the very least he would be near the last family he had left.

Fate, as it turned out, had different plans. The next morning he awoke to a young Danish woman crouching near him.

“Who are you?” he cried, scrambling to his feet and grabbing at a nearby rock in lieu of a weapon.

“Never fear, little monk,” she replied, raking her glacier blue eyes over him curiously. “What are you doing here, so far from home?”

“I’m going to Winchester.” He wasn’t sure why he’d replied at all, let alone honestly, but he could see the knife at her belt and the dark line tattooed from her lips to her chin and that occupied most of his thoughts. 

“No, you’re not,” she said confidently, standing up and looping her thumbs into the belt slung low across her hips. “You’re coming with me, little monk.”

“What use would you have for me?” he asked, rising shakily to his feet. “I have nothing, I’m nobody.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, and Osferth swallowed. She could only have been a year or two older than him, and she was shorter and smaller than he was, but somehow he'd never been more indimidated. 

“You may think that you're nobody, but it’s not true.”

She tipped her head toward the place he’d been sleeping, and Osferth turned to find a patch of small white flowers had cropped up in the place where he'd rested his head. He was certain they had not been there last night.

He turned back to her, unable to hide the horror on his face, sure that she was going to kill him and take his magic somehow.

She cocked her head as she looked at him, a slow smile spreading over her face. Rather than feeling a chill down his spine as he expected, he felt a warmth blossoming in his chest, both familiar and unfamiliar.

Osferth flushed. He could not explain anything that had happened since yesterday, this least of all.

The woman knelt beside the flowers and extended a hand. Her eyes fluttered closed as her fingers pulsed slightly. She muttered something in a language he did not understand, which ought to have frightened him but instead merely fascinated him.

The flowers grew slightly taller, reaching towards her hand, their petals expanding until suddenly they burst into bright orange flame and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

He jumped back, stunned, and she looked up with mischief in her eyes, tongue pushing against the back of her teeth.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” he implored, clutching the rock in his hand as if that would be of any use.

The woman laughed softly and rose to her feet.

“I’m not going to hurt you, little monk. You're not alone any longer, and neither am I.”

**Author's Note:**

> I probably won't write more of this but I felt like it was long enough to post to ao3 so here we are! If you enjoyed you can reblog the photoset [here.](https://aadmelioraa.tumblr.com/post/635312428312330240/for-tsukkinami-tlk-no-canon-november-osferth)


End file.
